


Telling Stories

by whilewilde



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Ian loves a beanbag, Pining, Reunions, a bit of sad stuff, also him as a totally adorable librarian man, looking back, the ending he really deserved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29785746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whilewilde/pseuds/whilewilde
Summary: Ian’s started telling stories to his local library about a mad old man with a box... but why does it all feel wrong?
Relationships: Ian Chesterton & First Doctor & Susan Foreman & Barbara Wright, Ian Chesterton/Barbara Wright
Kudos: 5





	Telling Stories

“Oh Ian, you must tell me the rest of your story!” The child asked, practically clinging to Chesterton’s arm.

“I’m afraid that really is the end of today’s reading, Susan.” Ian replied, quite disheartened to see how sad the child was to know their time was up.

Of course, she was not  _the_ Susan. How could she be? Susan was left in a different world entirely, and she definitely was not an over-enthusiastic eight year old. Ian assumed it was the universe poking fun at him, or even that he had gone utterly mad imagining these adventures with a mad old man, and he gotten too wrapped up in the stories he read to little Susan. Reading was never on the cards for him, at least, so he thought.

It had been a voluntary position at first. He thought it would make sense; a couple of Saturdays whenever he got the chance. Besides, he was taking more and more time off work because after the adventures they went on, nothing really compared. That was the problem. The Doctor showed him so many universes, so many lives... so many possibilities, and he was stuck on boring old Earth, waiting to die.

Well, he decided that the only way to deal with the shell shock of the 20th Century was to tell someone else. Instead of reading the designated books, he would tell the children about his very real adventures, and they hung onto every word. No more so than Susan, who would stay later than the other children, demanding to know more, and throwing a tantrum if Ian disagreed.

He didn’t deny her the opportunity anymore. Besides, how could he complain? He’d always thought that libraries were the last good pillar of society, and plus the bean bags were quite comfy. More important than that though, every time he told the story it was like the memories of everything he saw would become more vivid. More real. 

“But I want to know more about The Doctor!” Susan whined, poking Ian’s knee, much to his annoyance.

“And you will! Tomorrow!” Ian tried to reason, noticing that his offer barely shifted the frown now permanently etched into her face.

“But-“

“Now do come on, Susan! I’m becoming an old man! I can’t tell stories as richly on short notice anymore, I’m afraid. Besides, even our Doctor needs a day off, doesn’t he?” Ian questioned, smiling as he noticed Susan seemed to accept what he said.

Chesterton was far from old, but he supposed to children, anything over 40 was practically near a death sentence. The cheek of it! He didn’t even have a single grey hair yet. Maybe, he didn’t check anymore.

‘Our Doctor.’ Our. Such a term nearly broke Ian’s heart ten times over. A few years ago, The Doctor was simply a man who belonged to no one, including in stories. He was — by all accounts — grumpy, and sharp when he wanted to be, but he would soon learn that it was just a bit of a defence mechanism. After all, with Barbara around, it was near impossible not to warm the idea of humanity.

That’s partly why Ian thought it was his job to pass on these stories, no matter the cost. He decided that children must learn about The Doctor as he actually was, not succumbing to the traps of time and forgetting. No, no matter how much time went past, they would know of The Doctor.

‘Our Doctor’ was the man who defied expectations, always. Rough around the edges, but quite caring and wonderful when you got to know him. The only man Ian knew who would turn down using a gun to defend himself from certain death. To some that was madness, but to Ian, that was courage.

‘Our Doctor’ was just a man who ran away and showed them the world in the process, even though he didn’t have to. He let them go, because they wanted to, even though it broke his heart entirely. That was the kind of man he was.

“Okay, but can I ask one more question, please, Ian?” Susan mumbled, playing with the buttons on her cardigan and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh, I suppose so.” Ian asked, placing his hands on his knees.

“Do you still talk to them? The Doctor and Barbara?”

“Certainly not the Doctor, I’m afraid. He had to go on and see other planets, and we just fancied home.” Hearing it from his own mouth seemed utterly mad. Why would anyone in their right mind give up the stars for evening telly and teaching?

A few minutes had been elapsed before Susan persisted.

“What about Barbara?”

What  had happened to them? It wasn’t like they had any sort of falling out. In fact, when they had left the TARDIS it was under the impression that they would remain as close as they had become on adventures, just somewhere else. They still worked together, it was just they happened to meet less. Ian had put it down to busy schedules since Barbara had been made Head of History, but there was still a doubt at the back of his mind.

They never spoke about their adventures when they returned home. Maybe that was it. Maybe, just maybe, neither really believed that they had actually experienced the whole lot of it.

“I think... well, I’m not sure. You see, Susan, I just never spoke to her about it again.” Ian answered honestly, furrowing his brow.

“But why not?” The childlike persistence broke away at Ian’s defence.

Why not indeed? Well, if he was being honest it was entirely all his fault. Ian had never been the kind of man who was open with how he really felt, so much so that even The Doctor seemed to have a go at him for it.

It was obvious. He was in love with Barbara. He’d have been mad not to, really. They were the proverbial house on fire, and it was like the two were practically made for each other. Ian didn’t believe in soul mates and frankly thought the idea of chanced meetings were the stuff of fairytales, but why shouldn’t he get to experience it, after all they had experienced? Who else would there ever be?

No, it was always going to be Barbara. The woman who was always braver than Ian could ever be, and twice as clever, not to mention five times funnier. Whenever they faced any sort of danger, he always knew it was not a case of him protecting her, but the two of them looking after each other. She would even stand her ground with The Doctor, not to mention any alien or historical nightmare that came their way.

So, yes, he missed her. It wasn’t like she was thousands of miles away, lost in some other century forever. He had another chance to do something right.

“Because I was incredibly stupid.” Ian only half joked, patting Susan on the head and standing up from the bean bag, struggling slightly to get himself entirely upright.

At some point, he leaned too far forward and was about to pelt head first into the floor before someone grabbed his arm and kept him standing. Ian, still baffled but grateful, turned to his saviour.

“Thank you, I must say I’m quite clumsy-“

“Oh Ian, you really haven’t changed one bit, have you?” The sight of Barbara nearly made Ian collapse entirely.

He steadied himself, now a deep red, noticing that Barbara still had her arm linked in his, just like the old times. Ian cleared his throat, and slicked his hair back with his free hand, knowing that he probably was not a pretty sight.

“How long have you been listening?” Ian questioned, noticing Susan had long since abandoned the reading space.

“Oh, about, five weeks.”

“Five weeks?!” Ian shouted, only to be sushed by unseen library patrons.

“Yes, I quite liked the one where the brave Barbara saves Ian from imminent destruction... oh, about four times, wasn’t it?” She teased as he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, well. Good thing they’re just stories!”

“If it helps you to think of them that way, darling Ian.”

“It does!” Ian replied shortly, brushing off her jokey use of ‘darling.’ Secretly, he was burning up inside.

“I think we have a lot to catch up on, don’t you?” Barbara urged, pulling on his arm.

“Oh, centuries.”


End file.
